Rating: T as always.

Authors Note: Wow, thanks for all your lovely reviews you guys :) I really appreciate it. I don't think I deserved some of those glowing comments. I'll have you know that I spent some precious 'studying' time writing this chapter...so greetings from my school's health sciences library :) I didn't get as many reviews as I'd hoped I would, but I decided to get on with the next chapter anyway. Sorry it took me longer to get it out to you. I've been busy with finals, graduating from college, and Father's Day. But I should have a little more free time now to do some more writing.

Who all watched M&M's new video? Awesome! I personally feel they beat ACDC hands down in the creativity and entertainment categories (helicopter?! and doubles dancing?! and David Blaine?!), but I feel they lacked some original moves. It would have been awesome to see some really crazy stuff, and then they would have won hands down. Anyways...

So, here is chapter three, and I'm hoping you'll enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I'm not completely satisfied with it, but just decided to go ahead and post it anyway. I know some of you are frustrated with Miley, but the girl has got some growing up to do. She thinks too much with her head and not her heart. And while that is a good thing sometimes, sometimes you have to just go with how you feel and hope for the best. And this is what she is going to figure out. Eventually. This chapter is only slightly modeled after real life events. And thanks to my beta's!

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I'm still poor. So...no. I don't own Hannah Montana, Disney, or anything else really (except for a few pieces of furniture my parents have been nice enough to give me). Seriously, I don't think anybody could ever take over the Disney enterprise. Also, The Beatles are out of my reach as well. I think they should all share the wealth, don't you?

Chapter Three

I Wanna Hold Your Hand

I sighed as I hefted the 50 pound backpack I was carrying back onto my shoulders. The sun was blaring down on me, only adding to the dripping sweat that was rolling down my face and chest, and all I wanted was a little break. But apparently, according to Oliver, if we didn't keep moving we wouldn't get to our first campsite before nightfall. Why I decided to go on this 85 mile hike with him was beyond me. I was the only one crazy enough to agree to his outlandish idea of a 'senior trip' in the mountains. Lilly's invitation to join her family in their drive across the country in a rented RV with her bickering divorced parents was actually starting to sound a lot more appealing than Oliver's extreme hiking expedition right about now. Okay, it wasn't extreme, but the man wouldn't even stop for a water break! I was hot! And thirsty! And all I asked for was a five minute break when I swung my pack down on to the ground at his feet earlier. However, Oliver had other plans, and I was quickly told to drink while I hiked because he wasn't stopping.

Reason one million that I can tell he reciprocates absolutely none of the same feelings I have for him.

As the cool water trickled down my parched throat, I took a moment to breathe in the smell of the outdoors. It smelled of warm dirt and fir trees, the hot sun causing the sap to ooze out of the trees and create a refreshing and energizing smell. I loved it out here. The slight breeze was rustling the tree needles, and my eyes drank up the green sight all around me. A few chipmunks were chasing each other up and around a trunk, chattering at each other as they most likely fought over a found piece of food. For some reason I was reminded of Jackson, but shook the thought from my head as I realized Oliver was quickly disappearing down the trail.

Up ahead, he was weaving his way through the trees, his backpack bobbing up and down with every step. I grinned as I noticed the soft guitar case strapped to the outside of his pack. Oliver had lost a game of Rock, Paper, Scissors, which had led to him being the designated guitar hauler on this trip. I had been willing to ditch the idea of bringing it along, but he had persisted, saying something about campfires and Kumbaya. That boy was stranger than a herd of cows in downtown Manhattan!

And sadly, I think that's why I fell in love with him in the first place.

Oliver chose that moment to turn around and make sure I was following him. Noticing my lagging pace, he made some hand motions for me to hurry up and then turned right back around to continue hiking up the trail. Sighing again, I quickened my pace to catch up to him. Not only was I still thirsty, but I think I had slightly outgrown my hiking boots and they were starting to give me a slight blister on my left heel. This wasn't good. I had over a week left on this backpacking trip, and a blister on the first day was not going to make the hike any more pleasant. Oliver was going to pay for this, even if the blister wasn't his fault.

As soon as I caught up to him, he turned and smiled. "Nice of you to join me, Miles."

I only glared back in return, mumbling my displeasure under my breath.

"You know, that's the same look my mom had on her 40th birthday," Oliver shuddered.

"Yeah, she was probably wondering how she ended up with a doughnut for a son."

"Awe, thanks Miles. You're too sweet. You know you want me." He sarcastically added before turning back around to hike down the trail. "I am Oliver Oscar Oken, after all. The triple O, known the world over as ohhh...No woman can resist my charms."

"Uh huh. Keep deluding yourself Ollie."

"I told you not to call me that!"

--

I followed him closely for the rest of the day's hike, silently admiring the view. You'd think it would have been of nature, but I was referring to Oliver here. He was wearing a Dodger's baseball cap, situated backwards on his head, keeping his bangs out of his face for once. After lunch he had removed his shirt due to the excessive heat outside and I couldn't keep my eyes from wandering towards his chest. Of course, since I was following behind him, my view of his perfectly sculpted pecs and abs was limited, so I was instead forced to gaze at the tan legs extending from his khaki hiking shorts. I watched as his calf muscles flexed each time he took a step, or as a droplet of sweat trailed down, darkening his leg hairs and leaving a streak in the light dirt covering his legs.

God, I'm pleading with you. Please make this stop! I glanced up at the sky and quietly whispered, "please?"

Oliver must have heard me, because he turned around and gave me a strange look. "What are you pleading for?"

"Huh?" Shoot, he did hear me!

"You just whispered 'please.' Normally people ask that when they are begging for something, Miley."

"Right..." I nervously chuckled. "I was just silently hopin' that..." Sweet nibblets! How do I keep getting myself into these situations? "...that, uh...it wouldn't rain on our trip. I mean, this weather is slightly unbearable, but I don't do well soppin' wet. I'd be like the time Uncle Earl decided to throw the neighbor's cat, Mr. Snickles, into the river."

He smiled in return, wearing a somewhat confused expression. I'm not sure he always understood some of my metaphors, but I don't blame the boy. "Don't worry, Miles. I checked the forecast before we left. Clear blue skies for the next few weeks!"

"Perfect!" I forced a fake smile to my lips and readjusted the straps on my shoulders. This was bound to be an interesting trip.

--

Just as Oliver had been afraid of, we made it to the campsite just as the sun was setting. I could tell he was slightly upset with me, but it wasn't my fault we had got such a late start. He was the one who wouldn't get out of bed this morning. This in turn only made me angry at him, and so we silently ate a dinner of energy bars (it was too dark to even think about starting to cook) before crawling into the tent.

Yes, that's right. THE tent. Meaning Oliver and I were sharing. You'd think I would be ecstatic at the prospect of this, but I wasn't. I was more along the lines of...well...scared shitless. But as long as I stay plastered against the tent on my side, as far away from him as possible, I think I'll be alright. I just seriously hope my unconscious self doesn't have other plans. Eeep!! Oh God, please no.

Lucky for me, it seems Oliver had the same idea, and we both fell asleep that night facing away from each other with as much distance between the two of us as possible. It made me feel like a leper or something, but I couldn't give him a hard time about it as that would be pretty hypocritical of me. Ugh...boys!

I was the first to arise the next morning, and with the goal of appeasing Oliver's angry mood from last night, I decided to make him breakfast. Food was always one sure way to make your way into Oliver's heart.

Sure enough, he poked his head out of the tent once the oatmeal I was cooking began to simmer in the pot. "Hey."

"Good mornin', sleepy head. I'm guessin' you want some of my delicious cooking?"

He grinned sheepishly. "Listen Miles, about last night – he he, that sounds a little dirty. I mean --"

"Don't worry about it Oliver." I waved my hand in dismissal as I cut his sentence off. "What's important is that we made it to camp before it was pitch black outside and one of us went runnin' into a tree. But you do need to get your lazy butt up soon if we don't want a repeat of yesterday." I smiled to ease the slight discomfort I could feel hanging between us.

I could feel it melt away as he smiled warmly back in response. "Cool. Well...nature calls, so I'll be back. Don't eat all that before I return. Or there will be dire consequences Miss Stewart."

"The thought never crossed my mind, Ollie!" I chuckled.

From somewhere off in the woods I heard a muffled, "Don't call me that!"

--

The remainder of our trip went fairly smoothly after the first day. I was in charge of making breakfast and dinner, since Oliver couldn't even be trusted to boil a pot of water. Oliver was in charge of putting up and taking down our tent each day while I prepared the meals. And everything settled into place. Each night we would take turns strumming on the guitar to entertain ourselves. Well, usually it was just me. Oliver only knew a handful of songs and he seemed to always want to listen to me instead of playing himself. A few times we played a game of poker, using pieces of trail mix instead of poker chips. I couldn't help but feel like an old married couple by the end of the trip. Well, minus the twenty plus years of a happy marriage that would normally go along with that scenario, but you get my point. Oliver and I really did make a good team.

So today I was really sad to find myself reaching our last campsite of the trip. Tomorrow was only a short three mile hike back to the trailhead from where we had originally started, completing the 85 mile loop. I was exhausted to tell you the truth. And the idea of a nice warm shower followed by laying in my big, soft, warm, and all too inviting bed was very appealing to me at the moment. I mean, a girl can only 'bathe' in small streams for so long, and I was starting to get worried that Oliver would be forever turned off from the smell that was starting to emanate from me. Not that he smelled any better, but whatever.

After we had finished our dinner of rehydrated mush that was supposed to be 'spaghetti with meatballs,' Oliver decided to break the burn ban that was in effect and start a small fire. As another surprise, he whipped out a bag of marshmallows from his backpack that he had been hoarding for the entirety of the trip and set himself to making roasting sticks from a few fallen branches. I silently watched him as he expertly made the fire and stripped the bark from the sticks. It was comforting being with him and I wished the trip didn't have to end so soon.

"What? Do I have soot on my face or something?"

"Nah, I was just thinkin'. Where'd ya learn to build a fire anyway?" I asked, curious how a skater boy from Malibu could fend for himself in the woods.

"Boy scouts. Back when my dad at least attempted to be a part of the family, he made me join for a few years. We went on a few trips, learned the ten essentials and how to survive in the wilderness, stuff like that. I quit when he started up his own practice and didn't have time to go on the trips with me anymore." There was a hint of bitterness in his voice, and I felt sorry Oliver had to grow up without a caring dad. I don't know what I would have done without mine. "But you know, all these skills will one day help me in leading a group of survivors to safety. And then, the entire world will know about my charms and good looks. The ladies will be all over me. Everyone will want a ride on the Ollie Trolley!"

"Keep dreaming, doughnut boy. So Smokin' Oken was a boy scout, huh?" I chuckled. He wouldn't be caught dead in the boy scouts now. It had been deemed un-cool as soon as we left elementary school. "Well boy scout, any song requests? Johnny Cash? Tom Petty? How 'bout a rousing rendition of Kumbaya?"

"How about you play that new Hannah song you told me you were working on while I roast you a marshmallow?" He grinned as he ripped open the bag of marshmallows and began placing them on the spiked tips of the branches.

I froze. It was probably a bad idea to tell him about the new song. I knew he would want to hear it sometime, but I didn't want to play it because I had written it about him and due to some of the lyrics, even Oliver would be able to tell who it was about despite the fact that his head was probably more useful at storing nuts than brains sometimes. I would probably never get around to recording the song anyway.

"Uhh...well, it's not quite finished yet. Maybe you should take a turn on the guitar and I'll keep the marshmallows from burning." I handed over the guitar, hoping he would take it and leave the subject alone. Surprisingly, he did.

"Alright, but I like mine crispy. But not too black. And make sure it's all gooey on the inside. I hate it when the marshmallow doesn't get cooked all the way through." He quickly ordered, taking the guitar from my hands and quietly strumming the strings. Who knew the boy could be so picky about his marshmallows?

Oh yeah, I'll tell you something,

I think you'll understand.

When I say that something,

I want to hold your hand.

I want to hold your hand,

I want to hold your hand.

I love Oliver's voice. It always sounds like he is smiling, which makes me feel warm and calm inside. His voice was soothing in a way, even if the song was upbeat. But tonight he sounded melancholy. He was quietly singing the words as he concentrated on the strings. The smile was gone, replaced with a slightly despondent tone of voice that I had to let my mind wonder about.

Oh please, say to me

You'll let me be your man.

And please, say to me

You'll let me hold your hand.

Now let me hold your hand,

I want to hold your hand.

I quietly joined in the singing with him. In the back of my mind I wished that the songs he sang were all a silent message to me, but I won't let my hopes get too high. For all I know, he could still be pining away for Saint Sarah, crazy hippie girl, even though that was almost four years ago now.

And when I touch you I feel happy inside.

It's such a feeling that my love

I can't hide, I can't hide, I can't hide.

Yeah, you've got that something,

I think you'll understand.

When I say that something,

I want to hold your hand.

I want to hold your hand,

I want to hold your hand.

And when I touch you I feel happy inside.

It's such a feeling that my love

I can't hide, I can't hide, I can't hide.

Oh God, he just glanced up at me. Not only was I staring at him, but both marshmallows were completely burnt to a crisp and Oliver was gazing at me rather intensely. I could feel my heart beating quicker and hoped that I wasn't blushing. That would give away what I was feeling at the moment, and I wasn't about to risk several years of expertly hiding my feelings for him all in a single second by continuing to hold his gaze. I quickly glanced back down and stuck new marshmallows on to the sticks.

Yeah, you've got that something,

I think you'll understand.

When I feel that something,

I want to hold your hand.

I want to hold your hand,

I want to hold your hand.

Oliver sighed as he finished the song, obviously distraught over what he was feeling. While on one hand I wished that I could know what he was thinking, the other half of me was screaming at me to run far, far away. If it was another girl he was thinking about, I didn't want to know because I think my heart would break into a million tiny pieces. If it was me he was thinking about, I didn't want to know because then it would make my situation even more real and force me to do something about it. I don't know what is wrong with me. Why can't I stop this war between my head and my heart?

I braved a glance back up at him. He was staring into the fire, chin resting on the top of the guitar. "Ready for your marshmallow?" I asked, breaking him out of his trance.

"Thanks Miley," he softly replied, a sad smile gracing his lips as he took the stick from my hands. I suddenly felt horrible, but I didn't know why. Is he sad because of me? "Hey Miles?"

"Yeah?"

"Have you ever wanted something that you knew you couldn't have, but you can't stop wanting it anyway?"

I was quiet for a few minutes. Throughout my life, if I've ever wanted something, I wouldn't stop until I got it. Nothing could stand in my way. Except for one thing. And that thing was my head standing in the way of me getting Oliver, the one thing I never got. "Yeah."

"Well...what did you do? I mean, how did you get over it?"

"I never said I did."

--

The rest of the evening was fairly quiet as Oliver and I were absorbed in our own thoughts as we stared at the fire. I went to bed before he did. He mentioned something about waiting for the fire to burn out, so I left him alone with his thoughts as I crawled into my sleeping bag.

Sometime during the night I was awoken, from what I don't know. I closed my eyes to try and fall back asleep when I realized there was a warmth radiating onto me from behind, and something heavy lying on my waist. Glancing down I saw Oliver's hand resting against my stomach. He was holding me in his sleep, and oh God, it felt so good. I smiled as I snuggled into him and let sleep overtake me once again, this time dreaming of Oliver holding me.

When I awoke in the morning, Oliver was already up and dinking about around the campsite. I wondered if he knew he had been spooning me last night in his sleep, but I wasn't about to ask him and let on that I knew and was actually okay with it. He didn't mention anything for the rest of the morning, and I decided to not look any further into the matter, storing the event in the back of my mind along with all other Oliver related things. It was our last day on the trip as well, and only a few more weeks were left in the summer before we all left for college. I decided to keep all awkwardness at bay and just enjoy the last few weeks with him before he inevitably left and started his new life.

--

So this is it. The day is finally here. I'm at my final concert for the summer, an outdoor music festival in southern California. At the end of the day, Oliver will be going home to prepare for his long drive tomorrow up to Berkeley. He is finally leaving me. I knew this day was coming, but today it hit me like a ton of bricks to the face that tomorrow I won't be able to see him whenever I want to. He will have a new life, and there is a big chance that he'll forget all about me once he makes new friends and gets caught up in school work.

College sucks.

And now I'm standing backstage, anxiously waiting as the announcer riles the crowd up for my performance. Oliver will be out there in the crowd cheering for me, and it makes it that much harder to pretend I'm having a good time while performing in front of thousands of fans knowing he's out there cheering for a friend.

"And now, here she is...the international pop star who has recorded more than fifteen top 100 billboard hits. Everybody put your hands together for Miss Hannah Montana!!" I take this as my cue to bounce out onto the stage as the music for my first song begins. Luckily I'm only performing four songs today at the festival, because I seriously don't have the energy to last an entire set.

The hot stage lights are blaring down on me as I run back and forth across the stage, stooping down every now and then to touch the crowd. Sweat is dripping down my face, and I'm out of breath as I perform the dance moves I have perfected over the years. It always feels so surreal when I'm up on the stage. Even after just over four years of performing in front of crowds this large, I can't help but feel like I'm in a dream as I see the faces of over 20,000 people staring back at me, chanting my name and singing along to my songs.

Glancing out into the audience, I see Oliver sitting where he told me he would be, clapping along to the beat of the music and yelling. I smile as the familiar warmth rushes over me whenever I see him looking at me so intently. My heart is beating a mile a minute, and I'm not sure whether it's from my energetic frenzy across the stage I've become known for or from the rush of chemicals through my body from seeing Oliver.

The melodies from the last song come on. An ironic smile graces my lips as I realize that it's One in a Million. Who would have thought this song would still be one of my highest selling singles and most requested song from the radios? I certainly didn't when I made the recording several years ago. Maybe it was the feelings I put behind the words, or the overall message that everyone could relate to. Love is universal, after all.

I try my hardest not to focus on Oliver in the audience as I sing the song. One, I don't want the crowd to notice my infatuation with the dark haired boy. And two, I don't want Oliver to notice my infatuation with him. At this point, even if he did feel the same way towards me as I feel towards him, I couldn't stand to let myself give in to the feelings only to let him go tomorrow. I just can't believe that I have to say goodbye. I'm already counting down the hours until I can visit him again, and he hasn't even left yet.

The soft melody for the song ends and I wait for the cheering crowd to quiet down. Tonight I'm informally telling everyone that Hannah is taking a small break. I need to focus on college and getting on with my life, and Hannah will only be a huge distraction and detraction from my social life in college. After all, aren't these supposed to be the best years of our lives? How would I accomplish that statement if I have no friends due to celebrity commitments and concerts? Plus, I need to allow some time for Hannah to grow up and for her audience to become more open to a changing sound. My life is changing, and so are my feelings and ideas. I want to write songs that express myself and how I feel and who I am, not have my daddy write more songs about a double life.

As the cheering slowly dies down, I see Oliver giving me a thumbs-up sign from the audience. I'm glad I have his support and encouragement for this idea, because I'm terrified I will lose my fan base if I disappear for a while. But encouragement coming from Hannah's number one fan has given me the strength and courage to take my stand and do what is best for myself at this point in time.

"Thank you everybody! It's good to still see such a large crowd gathered for me today. I know four years ago, I wasn't sure how far I would make it in this industry. It can be pretty tough on people, there's a lot of criticism and pressure to take your career in different directions – which is what I want to talk to you guys about today." I glanced at Oliver before continuing, his smile making me feel more confident.

"I'm 18 now, and many of you probably don't know this but I'm gonna be startin' college this fall. And while I would love to be able to continue workin' hard on my music career during the next four years, I've decided that I want to focus on my studies and the college experience. And hopefully these new experiences will give me some great inspiration for some new music in the future. So I hope that many of ya'll will continue to be fans of my music and support me through these decisions, and when I'm able to focus on music once again, that ya'll will still go out and buy my albums!" I chuckle as the crowd erupts into laughs and cheers. This is going better than I thought it would.

"So I just want to say thanks everybody for listenin' to my music and making a little 14 year old girls dream come true. I owe everything to my fans and I'm so grateful for all of you! So thanks, and goodnight everybody!"

I made my way backstage to the eruption of applause and cheers. I know that I'll have many critics against my decision, but it feels good to have so many people still love my music and respect my decisions. In my dressing room I change out of my Hannah outfit, leaving my wig behind as I join Oliver and the rest of the crowd in just enjoying the music festival on this warm summer night.

"So...what'd ya think?"

Oliver sighed dreamily. "Hannah was perfect and beautiful as usual..."

"I was talkin' about the speech!" I replied, rolling my eyes.

"Oh! Yeah, great speech Miles. I'm sure Mr. Corelli would be proud."

"Thanks Oliver! So...where's the food? I hear a hotdog callin' my name."

"I thought you'd never ask," Oliver grinned as he excitedly began making his way to the food.

Once we had satisfied our food cravings, which in Oliver's case turned out to be fairly expensive, we made our way back to the crowd. It had cooled off considerably as the sun slowly set below the horizon, and as soon as my shivering began, Oliver produced a blanket from the backpack he had been carrying around. We wrapped ourselves in it and I allowed myself to scoot close to him, snuggling against his side to 'absorb more body heat.' Oliver seemed surprised at first but soon wrapped his arms around me as we quietly sat and listened to the music.

In this moment, I feel extremely content – a lazy smile gracing my lips as I allow myself to be wrapped up in Oliver's arms, pretending to myself that we are something more than just best friends. I don't see any harm in letting him know how much I care about him before he leaves. I hope he knows he will always have me as a friend.

"Oliver?"

"What's up, Miles?"

"Nothing..." I lose my nerve. Not that I was going to divulge any important feelings. I just wanted him to know that I love him...in a platonic way as well.

"Love you too Miles." He grins knowingly.

"In your dreams, Oken."

"Normally...yes." He chuckles. I can't help but grin back as I rest my head against his shoulder.

"Ok, you got me. I'm gonna miss you like Uncle Earl misses seeing his toes before he gained 100 pounds."

He squeezed my side in return. "You too, Miles. But we've definitely got the Holidays to see each other."

"I know. It's just weird, you know? What if a year from now we've completely forgotten about each other? What if you've found another best girl friend, and I'm nothing to you except a grilled cheese sandwich?"

"Miles, you've always been a grilled cheese sandwich to me." I punched him in return. "Ouch! Easy on the muscles, woman! I've got ladies to impress tomorrow!"

"Gee, thanks. Way to make a girl feel better about herself."

"Hey, you know what I mean. Miles, I will never forget about you, and I'll never stop needing you in my life. Trust me on that. I've been friends with you this long. Who says I'll stop just because we'll be five hours away from each other?"

"I don't know. I just don't want anything to change. I wish everything could stay just the way it is, right now, for forever."

"Well...while that would be great on some levels, I think we all need this right now. You and Hannah need time to grow up and become more independent and find out who you are. Lilly needs to grow out of being a tomboy and find her own passions in life. And I need to go out on my own as well. But I'll always come back to you guys, you know that. The trio isn't going anywhere."

I sighed. "Ok, I believe you. But you better not let me down. I know where you live. Miley like a puma!"

He laughed. "Deal."

I leaned my head back against his shoulders and closed my eyes, letting the music wash over me as I held on to the man I was in love with. God, I wish tomorrow wouldn't come.

It's me again! I'm once again hoping for another 10 reviews for this chapter. I could settle for less, but that depends on how motivated I am to write. I just started my new job today...8-5, 40 hr weeks, working on genotyping MRSA bacterial strains from environmental samples. Fun!!